


In Which They Get It On

by guardianoffun



Series: mostly cute Morse stuff [3]
Category: Endeavour (TV)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Peter Jakes Didn't Leave Oxford, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, e. morse has an ear biting kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 06:15:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guardianoffun/pseuds/guardianoffun
Summary: A continuation of 'In Which Morse Is an Ass Man, Probably' where Jakes and Morse... get it on? That's really all there is to it, no plot here to speak of.





	In Which They Get It On

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by Fitzrove who inspired thi fic and imaginationtherapy for screamign at me when i doubted myself lol i hope this is what yall were hoping for!! blease dont be mean this is like my 2nd attempt at anything vaguely sexy

Peter Jakes wonders if there is anything in the world as stunning as this. Morse, arms up about his head, hands curling in the sheets and the pillows, grabbing fistfulls and twisting them until they might tear. It’s quite a sight, one he has a great vantage point from; that is, directly above him. He has his hands pinned either side of that pretty face as he fucks Morse mercilessly, and it’s glorious.

As Peter muses on the sheer beauty of having the usually cool and unflappable Morse come very much undone beneath him, said constable moans his name so exquisitely, his brain scrambles.

“Fuck,” Peter chokes out, arms trembling slightly. Morse snorts.

“Eloquent, aren’t you?” he pants. Peter licks his lips as he searches for some smartass response, the sensation of Morse’s heels on the back of his thighs so very distracting.

“Fuck,” he manages again. Morse has the audacity to laugh, and that simply won’t do. Peter dives down, crushes Morse in a kiss hard enough to shut the bastard up for a minute.  _ Success _ Peter thinks, for all of thirty seconds, before Morse brings his arms up to loop around his neck, levering himself up into the kiss. The shift in position does something wonderful to the way their bodies are connected; Morse makes a most lovely sound in the back of his throat every time Peter’s hips jerk now.  

It makes Peter push harder, faster, more until he has Morse breathing heavy against his neck.

“Oh, God, Peter,” he manages to choke out, before his back arches and he comes with a loud

“Fuck!”

Peter laughs, as Morse falls back against the pillows, the most content smile stretched across his face. He waits until those baby blues flutter open again to say something.

“Eloquent, aren’t you?”

Morse snorts, still short of breath. “Fuck you Peter.” He says, as Peter starts peppering kisses along his jawline.

“Please do.” Morse gives him a smile, arching his back as he makes himself comfortable in the mountain of pillows behind him.

“Maybe in a minute, m’tired,” he says, a teasing edge to his voice. Peter moans, aiming for exasperated but ultimately just sounding needy.

“But  _ Morse. _ ” His kisses reach the spot just behind Morse’s ear and he decides to play a little dirty, well dirtier. He grazes his teeth along Morse’s jaw till he can capture his earlobe between his teeth and it works perfectly. Morse hums, fingers curling in Jakes’ hair.

“Mmm, you bastard,” he says in a breathy whisper. “I hate when you do that.” Jakes laughs.

“Liar.”

Morse doesn’t respond, instead flips him over, sliding off of him and repositioning himself further down the bed. The covers find themselves completely thrown off, leaving nothing but Peter and Morse and absolutely nothing in between them. Morse makes quick work of pushing Jakes into the pillows, making a space for himself right between Peter’s thighs.

The sight alone, of Morse’s hands on his legs, his eyes glancing up as he presses his lips to the inside of his thighs, is enough to have Peter’s heart clamouring in his chest. Then Morse has his tongue out, and is teasing him in a most delightful way, but it’s not enough.

“Morse?”

The bastard refuses to answer, instead just switches to plant lazy kisses on Peter’s other leg.

“Morse, I swear-” he whines. With a grin, Morse obliges, wrapping his lips around Peter’s dick, and then humming to himself as he goes to town on him.

He’s making a show of it, just for Peter. Obscene noises and big sultry eyes because he knows that drives him crazy. He moans, filthy as anything and god if it isn’t the most gorgeous thing Peter’s ever heard. Morse, with all his big words and proper schooling, can’t even be quiet while he’s sucking dick and it’s so insanely hot. Peter finds his hands grabbing for Morse’s hair, he needs something to ground him because it’s starting to feel a lot like he’s losing it right about now. The feel of Morse’s curls against his palm, at the same time Morse’s hands are on his thighs is enough to have him perilously close, but Morse likes to torture him. He makes this last, he has Peter swearing up a storm and cursing all manner of gods before he finally lets him finish, all over Morse’s chest.

By the time Peter can see again, Morse is already sat up, carefully wiping himself down on a loose pillowcase. Peter watches him, a lazy grin on his face. Morse, deciding he’s done, crumples the case and lobs it in the general direction of the washing basket. It misses by at least a foot, and when Morse turns back to him Peter has to bite back a laugh.

“What?” Morse asks, entirely innocently. Peter shakes his head.

“Nothing.”

He swings an arm off the bed and grabs blindly for the strap he’s left tucked under the bed. With practised ease, he swings the camera up, has it ready in seconds. Morse, hands now fallen into his lap, rolls his eyes. 

  
“Really?” Peter leans over and plants a kiss on the end of Morse’s nose. 

“Yes, of course.” He grins at him as he holds the camera up. “You look… gorgeous. Smile?”

Morse can’t help but oblige, because Peter’s eyes are shining and everything is so perfect. The camera snaps.

While it develops face down on the dresser, Peter drops the camera, and crawls over to pull Morse down for a hug. They lie, entwined, completely content, for some time.

* * *

Peter looks at the picture later, almost forgotten in their sudden realisation that there’s no food in the house. He finds it that evening, after they’ve spent a lazy afternoon listening to records and thumbing through old books. Morse is smiling at the camera, hair messy and bedsheets pooled at his waist. 

They have a collection of photos now, their not so family-friendly album of sorts. Some are downright dirty, others a little more thought out and arty, but this one is just beautiful. The early morning sun backs Morse in a warm glow, and the smile on his face lights up his eyes; he looks positively angelic.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i??? idk where the camera thing came from but like,, jakes apparently likes taking mildly dirty pictures in bed, i guess that's a thing now? anyways hope u enjoyed!


End file.
